


Throat

by LuchaDoRa



Series: Unrelated Jim/Spock Works [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bonding, Chess, Choking Kink, Coming Untouched, Feral Spock, Jim gets sick, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, McCoy is an ass, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pon Farr, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuchaDoRa/pseuds/LuchaDoRa
Summary: Spock quite likes the skin on his Captain's throat. As a specimen of observation, of course. So when Jim loses his voice, he makes a special collar to help him speak.It doesn't help that Ponn Farr is around the corner. He could only handle so much of listening to Jim speak like that, whilst imagining closing a hand around that gorgeous neck of his and pummelling deep into him from above.





	Throat

**Author's Note:**

> Let's watch Spock slowly lose his mind in the way we all love, shall we?

Something that was of great importance to Spock was his routine. He enjoyed keeping it to maintain his own sanity; the days would blur together in space if they didn't have some form of structure.

Also, being on a starship filled with Humans of considerable self-control and a programming for engaging in endless reckless behaviour had detrimental effects on one's psych.

His morning always began with ablution. It wouldn't be fitting to spend the day unclean. He would dress in his uniform and meditate for approximately 15 minutes. This was the most important part of the day. Spock could not, under any circumstance, begin his day surrounded by Humans without mental preparation first. It was _unendurable._

However, he had made a note that since they had began their exploration as a crew, his meditation period had considerably shortened the longer he had spent out in space with them. The reasoning behind this correlational relationship was still unclear to Spock. He would need more sufficient data to calculate.

The rest of the day occurred in stages. Spock was always the first to arrive at the cafeteria for breakfast, since Vulcans arise earlier than Humans do. He would be finished with his breakfast by the time the rest of the crew for Shift 1 would awaken, so he would also be the first of his senior officers on the bridge.

Except he wasn't.

"Captain." Spock said in surprise, before being encompassed with shame. He had not calculated this anomaly. Jim was never awake at this time, he would make his presence apparent on the bridge in the late morning if he could help it.

"Hey, Spock." Jim smiled.

Spock sat in his seat to his Captain's right and began cycling through his checklist for the day as he usually would, determined not to let the little anomaly bother him.

"Are you always up this early? Must be tiring as shit." Jim commented.

Spock didn't deter from his task, not even look over, he checked through the forms on his PADD that needed signing for with more concentration.

"For a Human more prone to the effects of fatigue, yes." Spock punctuated his sentence with a firm drag of the stylus across the screen in the shape of his signature so hard fluorescent colours blurred across the screen.

He stopped, inhaled, exhaled, and tried not to be so ruffled. There were a few moments of silence, till Spock decided to speak. "May I ask what you are doing awake at this time?"

"Not sure really, just had an itch to get up early this morning."

A reason Spock didn't understand Humans was spontaneity. They did things _just because_ , and at times it irked and at other times it fascinated him, this time being the latter.

"Any reasoning behind why you have chosen this morning in particular?" Spock asked, swivelling his chair round to face Jim.

He had a small smile on his face. "Just feeling productive."

"Though I am supportive at your sudden change in attitude, sitting in a chair staring at nothing is hardly productive." Spock scolded in the way he always did, and Jim smiled.

"Right you are." He agreed and stood from his chair to come over to Spock, putting one hand on the back of Spock's chair and the other on the desk, leaning over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" He asked softly, dangerously close to Spock's ear.

There was a small heat than ran down his back, but thankfully, the bridge was clear of other people. Spock didn't need the humiliation.

"I am beginning to cycle through my list of activities for the day." Spock said loudly, making his voice as even as possible.

"Let me help you."

  
Due to Jim's help, Spock had finished the tasks he planned for the entire day before lunch. Jim - who was sat across the table from him as he usually did in the cafeteria - seemed to think this was brilliant.

"But you've done everything." Jim pressed. He took another much too large mouthful into his mouth and continued to talk whilst chewing. "You're free to do whatever you want for the rest of the day, why is that a bad thing?"

"You misunderstand," Spock swallowed and carefully dabbed the sides of his mouth before he spoke. "Those tasks were for the entirety of the day. I now have nothing to complete."

"Again, why is that a bad thing?" Spock was thankful Jim swallowed his food before he spoke this time; he didn't have to mask a grimace.

"I am Vulcan. We prefer planned days."

"Ah, Spock, just take the plan and throw it out of the window. You can't plan out every single minute of your life to be as productive as possible, can you?"

Spock raised an eyebrow because Jim was aware this was exactly how he thought.

Jim cracked a smile. "Come on, Spock. I have something to show you. Let's go pass the day away."

  
Chess was something Spock excelled at. It was a game based on logic. He won so often it was an enjoyable activity for him.

Spock was of course the better player, as he had calculated every logical move and its outcome, before taking the most strategic one.

However, Jim was a surprisingly formidable contender even though his first few moves were very safe. He was testing the waters, seeing what kind of a player Spock was. Once he gained some assurance, his posture loosened and he sighed with approval.

"Has something come to your attention? Nothing has changed." Spock didn't see any changes on the boards.

"On the contrary, Spock, everything has changed." He smiled mischievously. To punctuate, he moved his knight across the board.

Spock halted. He had not calculated this particular outcome, because it was the most illogical thing to do. The move would not help Jim's position in the slightest, so why did he do it? Jim was beaming at Spock's slight brow-crinkle, either he didn't know what he had done (unlikely) or he knew exactly what he had just done.

Spock exhaled softly, now taking the time to concentrate, and moved with precision. His own smug expression returned as he discarded the anomaly and returned the boards to his own favour.

Jim raised his eyebrows, impressed. He moved again just as randomly, throwing a smile at Spock.

Spock was puzzled, he couldn't gain the advantage no matter what he tried, though Jim wasn't even trying any logical attempt to win. He somehow was getting better with each move he made, though each move was just as bizarre as the last. It was disgustingly infuriating, like a wrinkle in paper.

"Losing your nerve, Spock?"

"Nerves are cells that cannot leave the body. They send messages to the brain. Considering that my nervous system is more finely attuned than yours, I am confident that _my_ senses are running perfectly." Spock strained through a poker expression.

Jim grinned. "Someone smart once told me insults mean you find my point valid."

Spock huffed. "There is no validity to your point. My composure is intact."

Jim paused for effect, stretching the moment out for as long as he could. "For now."

They sat for hours and hours, locked in move after move. Spock had finally manage to overcome Jim's strategy. He only needed a couple of moves before he could take Jim's Queen and be done with it.

Jim coughed twice and rubbed a hand over the front of his neck, an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" Spock asked.

"Fine. Just a throat tickle." He stroked down the front of his throat again with his fingertips, making Spock's eyes follow with fascination. Jim's hand hovered over his piece, before he dropped his hand with a rough sounding sigh.

"Actually I'm tired and don't feel so good. How about we give up and call it quits for the day?"

Spock blinked several times to process the request, his mind a little distracted from Jim's earlier movement with his neck. Once he understood, almost scoffed. He had to be joking. He had not just spent hours trying to beat him for Jim to do this when he was so close.

There was a quiver at the corner of Jim's mouth. That fucking Human _knew_.

God, Spock really wanted to wrap his hands around Jim's throat and choke him again.

He inhaled, exhaled, and stood. "I am sure you have only said so as an attempt to stop me from winning." Or to deliberately annoy him.

"No Spock, of _course_ not. Like you said, Humans are more prone to fatigue... yada yada yada."

"If the circumstances were different I highly doubt you would agree with what I said." Spock made his way to the door.

Jim ushered him out of his room with mock hurt. "How could you? And why would you think such a thing?"

"Because, Jim, you never agree with what I say."

Jim rolled his eyes with a smile. "Goodnight, Spock."

When Spock laid down for the night, he heard Jim shuffling around in his room through the thin wall. He always heard perfectly through the wall like it was paper and he wasn't even trying. Jim was moving in the left corner of the far end of the room, picking up the pieces on the chessboard; the solid plastic tapping together - oh, he dropped a piece. That must have been a knight, Spock could tell by the echo of the weight when it fell.

After he used the bathroom, Jim got into bed - it creaked ever so slightly. Jim was a restless sleeper. He frequently tossed and turned as he slept. The noise occasionally woke Spock up on some nights, it didn't help that his bed was placed perfectly adjacent to the wall where Jim's were.

Spock shifted in his bed and closed his eyes. It only occurred to Spock when he was on the brink of his first REM cycle that he had spent over 5 hours doing nothing, and he hadn't minded at all.

  

* * *

   
The next morning Spock woke and told himself he wasn't going to be distracted. He was going to do what he set out to do, the _way_ he set out to do it.

It turned out, Jim wasn't even present on the bridge for his shift when Spock arrived. At this, Spock wasn't surprised. He was probably late.

"Sickbay to bridge."

The First Officer pressed the button. "Spock here, Dr. McCoy."

"The Captain's been claimed medically unfit for duty. You're going to have to take over for today."

"Understood. I assume he is unwell?" Spock raised a mildly concerned eyebrow.

McCoy's voice buzzed through the comm. "Yeah, throat infection- sit your ass back down! You can barely speak, how are you going to instruct a crew?- Sorry, Spock. What was I saying again?"

"A throat infection." Spock reminded. He could hear a buzzy chatter through the comm, which was likely Jim arguing in the background.

"And it was probably from sucking dick." McCoy said pointedly back to the fuzzy talking. Spock knew he was talking to Jim.

There was a chuckle among the senior officers on the bridge.

"I'll remind you to be appropriate as this is an open line." Spock stated, ashamed at the lack of maturity among the Human crew.

"Oh, I'm well aware, Spock. McCoy out."

Well. Spock raised both eyebrows and blinked twice, before pasting it over and returning to his usual routine.

It wasn't long however, before Spock found himself more distracted than usual, and he couldn't blame it on Jim's talent at distraction. In fact, it was his absence that made it all the more distracting. Was he okay? He seemed fine yesterday. Was it severe? How long would he be off-duty?

They were all logical questions of course. He was concerned for the welfare of the Captain, since he commanded the entire ship. _That_ was logical.  
  
What wasn't logical was that Spock had rushed himself to sickbay as soon as he got the chance.

 

Seeing Jim leaned back in a half-upright sitting position on the bed was a strange sight.

"Hey." Jim croaked, before the pain reminded him he couldn't speak and he almost keeled over, fingers on his throat.

"I was informed you are unwell."

Jim nodded.

"You seemed perfectly healthy yesterday."

Jim furrowed his brows. "Came outta nowhere." He whispered.

"I told you, you suck too much dick." McCoy appeared around the corner, a PADD in his arm. "Oh hey, Spock. Don't think I mentioned it on the comm, but I don't need you here."

"You may believe it true that you are perfectly capable of caring for the sick, but that doesn't nullify my concern, Doctor." Spock shot back.

Jim grinned at that, despite himself.

"Oh, ain't that sweet?" McCoy rolled his eyes. He tossed the PADD on the edge of the bed, knowing Spock would want to look at it. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"That's McCoy for don't disturb-" Jim began, but croaked horribly.

"I'll remind you not to speak, Jim, as difficult as it is." Spock scolded as he whizzed through Jim's patient notes on the PADD, making Jim stick out his tongue rudely. "I've noticed you also have a PADD for communication, I suggest you use it." He motioned to the other PADD left for Jim on the bedside. Jim snatched it up and scribbled out "You're an ass" with the stylus before holding up his artwork for Spock to see.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Childish. Though I can confirm insults are slightly more tolerable in this form."

"Are you saying I was intolerable before?" Jim wrote.

"That's precisely what I'm saying. Now I need not hear your voice constantly; insults are much easier to ignore." He concluded.

Jim narrowed his eyes, before sprawling out: "Youre a dick."

"That's 'you're', with an apostrophe. Please, don't excuse bad grammar with illness." Spock seemed disgusted.

Jim looked like he was going to throw the PADD directly at Spock's head.

Spock sensed this, and continued speaking. "Perhaps there is a better form of communication than this Stone Age method."

Jim didn't write anything down, but his expression was pleading.

"I could fashion you some sort of device that can use your vocal vibrations to speak. In fact, we have a similar device in storage, if I can persuade Mr. Scott to hand it over. It will need modifications of course, to fit you."

Jim simply pressed his hands together, begging.

Spock was satisfied. "Alright. I will have it done by the evening."

  
The crew didn't ask why their Acting Captain Spock had not shown up for duty on the bridge for the rest of the day. When he did, he came in only to use the sensor on his panel for some intricate work on the device before leaving just as unceremoniously. And no one batted an eyelid. Because Jim wasn't there and wherever Jim was, Spock always seemed to end up there too. It was norm.

When Spock presented the modified device to Jim, his eyes lit up like a supernova.

"No wa-" he almost gagged with excitement.

"Hold the talking for now, Jim. Let me fit this onto you." The device was a collar that fit snuggly around Jim's neck. It would translate specific vibrations of the vocal cords into words, so he could speak without actually damaging his throat further.

"I have not been able to talk all day. Do you have any idea how difficult that was?" Of course, his mouth didn't move and the device was mechanical, so the voice emanating was robotic-like and not like Jim at all. He tugged uncomfortably at the metal. "First time someone's asked me to wear a collar though. Kinky, aren't you?"

Spock should have been used to Jim's sexual humour by now, but he still hadn't grown accustomed to the teasing. He stuttered like a fish, opening and closing his mouth without any sound, as if he was the one with a strained voice box.

Jim's shameless grin faltered to a look of shock. "Shit... I was just kidding but..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Spock recovered barely. "There was no intention like that of the sort."

"Denial." If Jim was able to whisper Spock assumed he would have done so then. "Kinks are fine with me, just so you know." His grin came back, teasing.

Spock huffed. "I'm beginning to regret my decision to help you, Jim."

"No, you're not." Jim opened his mouth in a silent laugh. "You love it really."

Spock rolled his eyes. "Is it comfortable or does it require more modification?"

"It's more than comfortable, it's _comforting_. I'm telling you, I could get used to this." Jim winked.

"Stop. Your usual sexual humour doesn't have its same effect when spoken monotonously through a device."

"I'm not being humorous, Spock, I'm flirting."

"Flirting?" Spock looked scandalised.

"Yeah... it's- I... never mind." Jim sighed.

"Well... if it needs adjusting, I will do so."

"It's fine, thank you. Bones! Can I go now?"

  
Jim could at least get out of sick bay, his excuse being that he could now talk, thanks to Spock, so he could command his crew. McCoy agreed as long as he took regular medication.

It was an entire week before Jim's throat got better. An entire week of Spock staring quite illogically at the skin of Jim's neck, watching him tug at the metal every now and then despite trying to convince him it was comfortable, and thinking to himself how pretty it looked so snug on his skin.

Spock was in anguish, because he had gotten himself into this situation where he was feeling desire, one of the worst emotions; very difficult to suppress and control.

So he buried himself in his work for the whole week, tried to avoid prolonged contact with the captain.

It was worse once the collar came off. Jim's throat was fine, it didn't hurt, but his voice was now croaky from disuse and much like in the vulgar way the doctor had described it, it sounded like he had gagged on a dick.

And it was most difficult not to imagine it every time he spoke. _'You have the conn, Mr Sulu.'_ and the First Officer would picture his Captain's husky voice in such a way begging for Spock to fuck him, right after he just shoved his shaft down his throat and fucked it hoarse.

He closed his eyes tightly and begged to be free of the torture. The mind was either his prison or his freedom so it had to be refined. He had to cleanse himself.

"You good over there, Spock?" Jim asked in a grovelled tone.

Oh, _no_.

All he could picture was his long cock disappearing into those pretty, puffy lips as they wrapped around his shaft.

Spock relaxed his facial features and evened out his voice to appear as smooth as silk despite the inward turmoil, in the way he knew.

"I'm perfectly fine, Captain."

Jim didn't look too convinced. "You sure? You don't look so great."

Spock wanted to scream really, really loud for Jim to shut. His. Mouth.

"I may be slightly - to use a human term - off, but I know my limit." He shivered in disgust at himself; he was really being affected if he was using human terms.

"If you say so," Jim muttered and returned his attention back to Chekov, chattering loudly. Dear God, why was he so talkative?

Spock wouldn't last any longer. He could only handle so much of listening to Jim speak like that, whilst imagining closing a hand around that gorgeous neck of his and pummelling deep into him from above.

Oh, Surak.

Spock was _hard_. On the bridge! He needed to meditate and he needed it now.

He spun in his chair at warp speed. "Permission to leave the bridge, Captain."

Jim stared in shock. Never in the time they had served on the Enterprise together had Spock ever asked to leave the bridge unexplained while on duty. "Uh, s-sure." He said, knowing that if it was Spock, it had to be serious.

Spock rushed away faster than the speed of light to his quarters. Once inside, he took a seat on his bed, breathing deeply through his nose and out his mouth.

It had to be his _time_. There was no other plausible explanation for such irrational behaviour. It was the only time a Vulcan's logic was stripped from them.

Of course, it was the only feasible answer for his agitation with Jim during chess; his unfocused attention span during Jim's absence on the bridge; his illogical behaviour towards Jim's collar afterwards; the compulsive and animalistic drive for sex.

And constantly seeking out _Jim_.

Spock exhaled deeply, erratically. He was quickly spiralling out of control. Spock already had a week of this, and his owns signs had gone unnoticed. How did this happen? How was he so distracted that he didn't realise what he was going through?! It wouldn't be long now before it completely consumed him, he was out of time.

He folded his arms and began meditating, taking long deep breaths. They were shaky and uneven. It had only been five minutes before his hands started trembling. Spock was too unprepared for this. It was much too warm all of a sudden, when did it get so warm?

He stripped of his uniform, laying on his bed in nothing but his black standard issue boxer briefs. He could feel the sweat on his brow.

Spock was still hard. He couldn't will this one away if he tried. Not with Jim on the brain. Jim, and his beautiful neck; Jim, and the soft curve of his Adam's apple; Jim, and his low throaty groans; Jim, and his wandering eyes, his full lips, his plump ass that Spock was going to fuck every hour of the day, Jim Jim Jim-

Spock was panting like an animal and he hadn't realised his gruff exhales of breath had become his Captain's name. His thighs trembled and he was now painfully, _painfully_ hard. Is this what it was like?

Knowing meditation wouldn't calm him at this point, he gave up and instead settled for a more primitive method of relaxation.

Spock kneaded a firm palm down the front of his boxers, exhaling the winds of Vulcan from his lungs. Without wasting time he slipped his hand inside and pumped at a hasty pace. Photographic images of Jim came to mind, crystal clear in every detail. His wide shoulders that connected with that neck by vicious collar bones, that Spock would leave bruising kisses against. Those tantalising hips that swayed vivaciously in their tight uniform trousers, blissfully unaware of their effect on the keen eye. Spock was going to enjoy pounding those hips into the mattress.

Spock let out a _moan_. A dull haze glazed over his clear images and made them less vivid in his mind's eye. He gripped onto them, struggling to think clearly, struggling to breathe, hand pumping fast, feeling his release building.

"Oh, Jim." He breathed and slowed his pace to a torturous speed, increasing his grip so a couple of rougher, slower jerks were all that made him spill out over himself.

Spock gasped. The release gave him as much strain as it did relief. His dick swelled again harder than before in the time it took to wipe himself down. Need burned through his arteries, pumping through him at a high pressure. There was hardly any satisfaction.

Groaning with an uncontrollable, compulsive need, he was about to take himself in hand again, ready to jerk himself to death if that would be the outcome, but was interrupted by a beep at the door.

"Spock?"

Spock didn't need his excellent Vulcan hearing to know who the voice belonged to.

"Shift 1 is over, I just came to check if you're okay." Jim said.

Shift 1 was over? How long had Spock lay sprawled out stroking himself until he could climax? Hours?

"Fine. Ret-urn to your a-activity." Spock could just about say through the door.

"Are you sure? You don't sound okay."

"Leave- me." He said, sternly but broken.

"Spock? What's going on?"

Spock growled. "I am... unwell."

"What? Let me in, I'll get you to sickbay." Even through his haze Spock could hear Jim's concern, though he didn't have the mind to appreciate it.

"Leave, Jim." Spock growled.

"Don't make me use my Captain's Master Key. Come on, I just want to make sure you're okay."

Spock couldn't argue, he was already planning to fuck Jim senseless from this insubordination once he got in.

The silence wasn't a good sign to Jim. Panicking, he unlocked the door. "I'm coming in."

Seeing Spock stretched on his bed in nothing but tented tight boxers and a sheen of sweat, bangs mussed on his forehead, was not what Jim was expecting when he took Spock for being ill. There was a slight green blush across his skin. When he lifted his head up his eyes were wild and he looked at Jim like predator about to devour prey. It was the hottest thing Jim witnessed in his life.

He didn't have time to admire the sight in full, however, as Spock had flew off the bed at the speed of light and pinned him against the door.

"I told you not to come in." Spock said harshly, chest heaving. He sandwiched him tightly between the door and his own body, which was trembling against Jim at the exertion - the sheer will power - to keep himself from taking Jim right there against the door.

"What's gotten into you?" Jim huffed, both shocked and majorly turned on by the situation.

Spock let out a row rumble in the back of his throat. He was supposed to reply, but got distracted by Jim's neck which was now within touching distance. Instead of answering, he rested one hand against the side of Jim's throat, swirling his thumb up and over his jaw to the other side so it wrapped around his skin.

Spock marvelled at the way Jim's perk mouth became a little 'O' shape at the touch. "Uh-" he began.

"Are you aware," Spock said firm, finding his voice at last. "Of the Vulcan _Ponn Farr_?"

Jim gave a full body blush, Spock knew because he could feel the rise in temperature of his skin. He'd know even if his hand wasn't still around the base of his neck. He could sense everything: Jim's heartbeat, his rapid neurone transmission, his swell of arousal, everything was so enhanced.

"I've read up a bit about it, I was curious." Jim confessed. "Is that what's happening?"

Spock growled deeply, pressing his firm hips flush against Jim. Jim bit back a moan, lucky for him, or Spock might not have been able to stop himself from bending Jim over the bed and fucking him raw right there, uniform on or not.

Speaking of uniform, Spock did want it off Jim _now_ or he'd just rip through it and fuck him clothed.

He had to swallow several times before he could make himself coherent for Jim to understand. " _Here's_ what is going to happen. Soon I am going to completely lose control. From that point onwards, nothing, and I mean nothing, will stop me fucking you until I am satisfied. And believe me, I am not easily satisfied. It will not be soft, delicate love-making that would occur between intimate couples on Earth. It is animalistic, raw and rough." He paused, trembling. He was quickly losing it. "If that isn't what you want, you have to leave now while you still can. I won't- I won't hold anything against you, Captain."

"Jim." He said straight away. "Jim only, for the bedroom." And he wrapped his arms around Spock's shoulders, sealing their lips in an open mouthed kiss.

Spock snapped. Any shred of sanity he had was burned with the touch of Jim's lips. He groaned into the kiss, tongue flicking, not wanting to remove himself. He ripped Jim's irritating shirt right off his body, exposing his skin at last. Jim broke away when he yelped in surprise but it was quickly swallowed down by Spock's mouth reattaching itself.

"Fuck, Spock, ungh." Was all that he could get out.

Spock would have been content kissing him till Jim came in his pants untouched, but he knew he couldn't rebound as quickly as he could. Not that he cared. He would make him come again and again and again till he was spent and then keep pleasuring him because he was his T'hy'la and he deserved it. But Jim was breaking away and moving down Spock's chest towards his nipple anyway. He took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue and suckling lightly. Spock groaned again, putting a hand on Jim's shoulder to guide him towards his aching dick. He was in no mood for foreplay.

Jim obeyed, dropping to his knees and pulling down Spock's underwear to release his hard-on at last. Before he could continue Spock grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back roughly to tilt his chin upwards, which earned a little gasp. Spock angled his hips and used his steady hand to let his dick touch over every inch of Jim's pretty face while he held him still by the hair with the other hand. Jim closed his eyes and moaned softly as Spock's scent filled him. He cheekily flicked out his tongue just as Spock hovered over his mouth. The touch was electrifying. Spock barely registered his actions before he had pushed all the way into Jim's mouth.

Jim opened his eyes wide and let out a little moan of possible objection, but he didn't choke in shock or pull off. Spock began pushing in out of Jim's wet heat and he took it like the good boy he was; flattening his tongue and hallowing his cheeks, using his hands where his mouth couldn't reach the length.

Spock moaned and his grip on Jim's hair tightened to a point of discomfort but could feel through his skin how much he was enjoying this. Jim let him take a hold of his head and piston his hips back and forth so he was fucking his mouth. He kept at that speed for a while, knowing Jim's jaw was beginning to ache.

"Jim!" Spock came with a shout, squirting long powerful jets down Jim's throat. He swallowed up as much as he could and sat back on his knees, wiping his swollen lips. He watched in amazement as Spock's flaccid cock re-hardened in seconds.

"Jeez. You weren't kidding when you said you aren't easily satisfied."  
  
"Shut up." Spock said, because he was tired of Jim talking, when his mouth could be doing other things.

They moved to the bed.

"Let me ride you, baby." Jim said while getting rid of the rest of his clothes, and Spock allowed it, because he was going to take Jim in every position known, so pinning him down to blow his mind while he fucked him like he wanted would happen anyway.

Spock laid on his back and Jim climbed aboard, lubing Spock's dick before easing himself onto him.

Spock was filled with that incredible need burning through him like poison again. He grabbed Jim's hips as he was halfway down and pushed his dick upwards, causing Jim to cry out as he opened him up.

"Fuck, Spock!" He grabbed at his shoulders for support.

Spock didn't let go of Jim's waist, kept pushing upwards as he pulled him down to get in deeper and deeper. Jim gyrated his hips, moaning in a language Spock was sure he knew but couldn't process. No, this position wasn't working for him, he had to own Jim, _claim_ him.

He stopped them quickly, flipping Jim over with a single arm.

"What?" Jim breathed out, confused, but Spock was already arranging his limbs so his head was against the bed and his ass was up.

Jim liked this position better. Spock could feel it in his skin.

He pushed in, the puckered hole feeling tighter since Jim's thighs were pressed together. They groaned simultaneously, and Spock didn't miss a heartbeat before he was pulsing himself in and out and in out of Jim's ass. Every stroke in and out rubbed tight against his prostate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. Spock could feel it too. Jim took himself in his hand in his curled up position and started to stroke and soon he came hard and loud. Spock continued to ravage his ass hard, unwilling to stop even though he could sense the overstimulation becoming too much for Jim. He continued till his come filled his ass and leaked out, spilling over the sheets.

Spock wasn't done. His need burned strong. His desire not only to fuck, but to claim, to protect, to pleasure his T'hy'la.

Jim rolled onto his back, catching sight of Spock's hardness again. "Are you kidding me?" He sighed in awe.

Spock bunched up Jim's legs, folding them up to his chest. He pushed in again, slower this time.

"Mine." He growled at Jim. He pulled out slowly, before pushing back in just as tantalisingly. "Mine." He repeated, this time in Vulcan.

"Oh my god, Spock." Jim tilted his head back in breathless pleasure. His voice cracked a little. "I've o-only just-"

Jim was still soft. It would be a while before he could get it up again, so Spock kept going with his lazy strokes until his T'hy'la hardened with want once more. It felt better for him when Jim felt good. He shifted his hips, so each slow push was a stroke over his prostate.

"Spock..." Jim called for him, purring with desire.

Spock wanted to submerge himself deep inside of Jim's perfect hole and never leave. He released Jim's legs, letting them open and let one hand touch and stroke and feel while the other held tight on his hip, steadying him. He marvelled at how he could make Jim so hard and needy so quickly, despite having just fucked him to the other side of the galaxy.

As if he was overcome with a feral lechery, Spock grabbed Jim's wrists and pinned them above him head. Jim tried to struggle against his strength but he couldn't; Spock knew his lover wanted to touch him. So Jim wrapped his legs around him instead, feeling Spock glide between the inside of his thighs.

Spock increased his speed so he could slide in and out with ease. Jim gave him gorgeous moans of encouragement. He kept going, grunting with every push until Jim was writhing uncontrollably. His hard dick bounced as they fucked and he groaned from the lack of touch, but he could do nothing with his restrained hands.

"Spock," Jim begged, voice wrecked. "Touch me, _please_."

Spock was too far gone to take heed. All he could think about was fucking Jim senseless. He wrapped his free hand on Jim's throat, giving himself the leverage to push in with more force.

Jim's back arched as far as it could go while being restrained and his ass spasmed beautifully around Spock's dick. He came in a hot wet stripe up his own torso, untouched.

Spock kept going. He didn't release Jim's arms from their position. He kept fucking Jim's ass at warp speed even though Jim came a long time ago. He was crying out from overstimulation.

"Jim." Spock finally released his arms, knowing his own release was coming.

Finally free, Jim wrapped his hands around his lover. "Come for me, Spock."

Spock placed his fingertips against the points on Jim's face. "My mind to your mind," he said in Vulcan. "My thoughts to your thoughts."

Jim gasped as the feelings from Spock's release entered him. He could feel everything, not just Spock's come filling his ass but the strain his body had been under, the intangible desire he had for his T'hy'la, _everything_.

It was heavenly. Spock came loudly as they fused into one, finally satisfied. "Jim!" He shouted, shuddering.

"Oh, Spock." Jim crooned, eyes a haze from the meld. Spock finally slowed and slid out of him, throwing himself onto his back.

Surprisingly, Jim threw himself back on top of Spock, snuggling into his chest. Spock couldn't question from fatigue and lack of vocabulary, so he rested and found himself wrapping his arms around Jim and falling asleep, no words coming to mind apart from-

"T'hy'la." Jim said softly. "What does it mean?"

Spock stroked the back of Jim's head, eyes feeling heavy. "You." He said with a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I got carried away again HAH leave me a comment


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